The Line
by TheSecondOtherGuy
Summary: Series of very short drables. Mostly Angst. Each chapter has a music recommendation at the end and the characters it is based on.
1. The Line

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

The Line

Many opposites where separated only by very fine things and it was easier then one could ever expected to slip and find themselves sprawled over the other side. Easy enough for a woman to wake up and hate her lover the next morning.

And the entire while the word played along: everyone held the same masks and while some never approached in others courted it, they welcomed the danger, the thrill and exhilaration- to jump between to states of being was their ultimate being. But it was never too long before they broke, before one fay they missed their step, missed their punch, dodged their kiss and went sprawling down, over, under, further then they could ever hope to return.

No, these where the ones lost to the minority.

And those that had fallen found the pieces of who they used to be, who they used to know and who they used to admire: they scooped up the shards of being into a giant heap and began creating their masks pieces of everyone and everything.

The day innocence is lost is when you realize the only people who don't understand are the innocents. And that's the day the majority fall over the line and begin building their own masks, twisted and demented their only purpose to shield both sides to the world.

And so they stand, they walk, they dance, they taunt, they play, they fight, they court, they fall.

And so they weep.

* * *

A/N: Well I've got no idea where that came from, rather depressing isn't it? I actually made this while thinking of Kakashi though it can be applyed to any character in Naruto I think. I suppose you guys might hate it, I wrote it to the song: Nayhan - Altered Flight and I'm sure where most of it's charm from the time came from.

I hope you got something out of this.


	2. Colors

Disclaimer: I own nothing

Colors

Sometimes the line isn't there sometimes you're too far over one way or another they exist without its knowledge in complete content obliviousness, other times they crawl as far from it as humanly possible- and sometimes beyond.

When the adrenalin turns to fear and fear turns to hate, anguish, hopelessness.

But for some it's simply the voice nagging,nagging in the back of their heads not to go over there, they don't know but they've seen what's happened, so they turn there attention else where.

Orange is a good color. It's vibrant, bright, if a color where liveliness it would be orange. It's also the stupidest color a shinobi could wear: it's visible from miles away, stands out in a crowd and fits near no complexion.

But sometimes colors like orange are all that matter: because maybe it's bright enough to shine through the sheen of forestry, sweat and blood.

If something as pure and bright as the liveliest of colors can't black out some of the horror of the world what sort of twisted place is this?

In what sort of twisted world would children be born for the sole purpose of one day having children of their own and dying painfully and unfulfilled.

Maybe a color could act like a star and burn out all the _wrongness_ of this land.

Just maybe.

* * *

I don't like this one, too many 'ness' and 'ies' because honestly I ran out of words. Surprisingly rather of thinking about Naruto when writing about this I was thinking about Gai: that's right Gai and those bright orange fuzzy (not very) leg warmers. I wrote this while listening to the Assassins Creed Revelations 1st soundtrack (once again you can find it on youtube).

I don't know where I'm going with this. Somewhere good I hope, however it started on a grim note, I doubt it will end on a lighter one.


	3. Masks

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Masks

All people wear masks: the mask of a man or woman. The masks of feigned emotion, exaggerated events and hidden emotions. Shinobi are not exclusive to these masks but of all the people in selection have by no doubt the thickest, and largest collections. 'See beneath the underneath' was an expression fitting for a shinobi, so many masks do they wear and for so long the skin on their faces may have well have grown over the bright white porcelain.

However it is not so, and should not be said as not all shinobi wear masks.

Some never don the masks in the first place, rather then swam themselves in a blanket of painted white they could never escape from they simply reach into them selves to the point they find a switch which they promptly flick off and so masks are not necessary.

But Masks are necessary to the human way of life and those without gain them self a cursed fate to wander the hidden continents forever corroding by the loneliness that eats at the heart. Such is the way of shinobi.

And so the white mask falls into place.

* * *

I'm writing quite a lot of these it seems. Masks, ah I wanted to draw a sea of old porcelain styled masks that was the impression I tried to draw across however I think I failed. I was listening to something quite classy as I wrote this: Bohemian Rapsody Solo by Lucia Micarelli on Violin. It's quite dramatic and didn't quite fit the air I was trying to prevail but never mind. It seems nothing ever suits.

In truth I was thinking of Niji when I wrote this, but not just him: large clans such as the Uchiha and Hyuga clan both of which where extremely standoffish and separated from Konohakagure.


	4. Loyal

Disclaimer: I won nothing.

Loyal

It a shinobi is anything they're life expectancy of a missing-nin is a a splinter of that of a loyal shinobi.

However the bingo books never seem to have an absence of S-rank missing-nin to fill it's pages. Loyalty is a trait hard to come by even in a world built around it with the most sever punishments.

And it's amazing when you realize the loyal shinobi is both rare and common because half as many missing-nin where betrayed as the ones doing the betraying.

Every shinobi have their own sense of loyalty: to be completely faithful to their hidden village and transform themselves into the perfect ninja, to coast along pushed on only by the stream of overachievers going in a single direction.

It always helps when a shinobi knows nothing other then loyalty to their village: it is everything, the only thing they have ever known, loved been acknowledged by.

True loyalty is a frigtening thing for sure: to be so badly blinded by the thing that all but consumes them that even the truth is lost in the murks puddle of their muddled perception- but such is the price of loyalty.

And such is the price of the loyal shinobi.

* * *

I was actually listening to Of Monsters and Men- Little Talks while writing this. I was thinking a little of everyone when writng this: Kakuzu, Shikimaru, Itachi and again, even Naruto. There where a few others I'm sure but I don't want to bore you.


	5. The Catalyst in the Black Sheep

The catalyst in the black sheep

Did it really matter? Did any of it really matter?

Sometimes everything seemed like a vicious cycle of life and death; never ending and unrelenting: different actors filling the same roles.

And it was damn-right depressing. Why was it that it seemed no one could ever make a true difference? I could never see the lasting changes that came from the hard ships people faced day after day which led me to believe that it was all_ pointless_.

What was the point? Why did it matter? It was a cycle of self destruction and it would never stop as long as we never stopped repeating the same meaningless motions day after day. year after year, generation after generation. What was tradition if not to be broken?

But even the ones who understood, why it was only meaningfulness because we made it meaningful, by acknowledged and accepting it we where giving it power, but as soon as we stopped it stopped.

When would it stop? When would everyone look up, understand what was happening put down their weapons and back away? Because as long as one man, woman ,child didn't understand- drifted along with the crowd unsure of their place in the world, their hopes and dreams- we would be lost because in that child's ignorance we would break the system.

So, why?

But maybe it's me. Maybe I'm that child the one that tried to break the system, the one that was found lying in a puddle of their own life-blood in the darkest place in an alleyway the next morning that everyone pretended the stink didn't come from. The black sheep.

But maybe that's all wrong and everything is actually right and the only thing that I'll succeed in when trying to change the system is breaking myself.

But maybe I'm just over analyzing everything.

Or maybe I'm already broken.

* * *

Truth be told I was thinking of Sakura when writing this, this seems more philosophical than angsty. I was going to attempt 'flowers' however my mind drew a blank so instead i decided to simply type. I have a feeling that this might turn into more of that then anything else.

I was listening to Border by Funkist, they're not very well know, I'm not sure if they would fall under Indie or J-Pop. I'll leave that to you.


	6. Nightmares

Disclaimer: I own nothing

Nightmares

Sleeping was scary, but you don't need to dream to have nightmares.

No it sufficed to blink a bit too slowly for your mind to assault you with the images of a thousand kin dying; their life blood splattering across your vision leaving you partially blinded and disorientated. A second was more then enough for the last faces of each and every one of your precious people to flicker across your mind in a progressive timeline.

You didn't have to have any imagination to picture the way their bodies where mutilated beyond imagination and torn limb to limb in the most grotesque scene you'd ever seen until that moment. When your emotions failed you for a moment and you let your self think it looked almost like a picture: a twisted demented painting from the most deranged, or possibly the most sane, artist you would ever come across as you saw the patterns of blood splattered sometimes seemingly randomly, other times you wondered if you could see last messages scrawled in the last of their life blood.

Sleeping was scary: your mind had an entire night to drive you insane in ways that no other mind had likely thought possible before they had fallen into the same pit.

You could see the nightmares in the glazed over expressions of the random shinobi left to their own devices for too long. It was this point when you inter veered you would hit them a bit too hard over the head before greeting them. Drawing their attentions away from their memories and back to the true nightmare: reality.

* * *

This chapter was a lot more gruesome then any of the others have been. DE spite the inconsistency of it I was imagining Tsubasa finding Kakshi daydreaming without his book open and hitting him over the head before talking about... something?

I was writing this while listening to the Legend of Ashitaka soundtrack from Princess Mononoke- quite contradictory I know.


	7. Water

Disclaimer: I own nothing

Water

Water dropped steadily running down from the tip of your nose slowly drenching the letter that was now laid out neatly. Yoru uncharacteristically neat handwriting colored the entire page darker then it was.

The room was dark, a single candle flickered in the gentle breeze; you'd left the window open, you didn't want the house to smell.

Besides, you'd always liked the wind, you'd never had a particularly strong affinity to it but it seemed to always relax you to no end, it was probably because she's liked it, you'd always been outside when you met and the wind was a constant, you wanted to feel the kiss of the moving air in these precious moments.

You moved the letter out of the way, the water was beginning to smudge your carefully crafted words, the ones you'd spent the last few weeks mulling over, trying desperately and failing to explain everything. That you where sorry and why everything happened just the way it was supposed to be. You would be with her, that was all that mattered now.

As you grabbed the cold steel you closed your eyes not bothering to wipe your wet face.

It was just water.

* * *

This was about Hatake Sakumo, I don't think I captured the moment at all , I'm mildly disappointed by it actually. The idea was that if everything was 'just water' he would it all flow over with him and follow through with his decisions Maybe? Gods, why am I analyzing my own writing? Why am I trying to appease multiple gods? (I've been playing too much Skyrim)

I was listening to a cover of Someone like you by CIMORELLI, I highly recommend their music.


End file.
